


Here's Your Christmas, Damnit!

by TWDObsessive



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: A kind of grinchy Santa, Adding new tags!, Anal Fingering, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Curious!Daryl, Daryl is also Santa, Daryl is grinchy, Eager!Rick, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Grumpy!Daryl, Impatient!Daryl, Judith likes to clap, Legos hurt when you step on them, M/M, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Playful Sex, Presents for everyone, Prison setting, Rough Body Play, Rough Kissing, Sexual Humor, Teasing, Toys R Us, Trying to figure out Gay, mutually aggreed upon body exploration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-05 18:40:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5386322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDObsessive/pseuds/TWDObsessive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl hates Christmas.  But the rest of the Prison family wants to celebrate.  So fine.  Fine.  Daryl will fucking celebrate Christmas.  And he will do it right because he cares about the Grimes family and Judith is cute when she claps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know. I am kind of avoiding Christmas stress by hiding out in here and writing Christmas fluff. This is totally unbeta'd and just sort of popped out of me.

Daryl hated Christmas. He always had. It never meant anything more than a day off school and since he hardly went anyway even that wasn't much of a big deal. 

When he was younger, five, maybe six, he got boxes to play with. Cigarette boxes that he used as blocks. He made buildings with them and forts and he was happy to have them. But before he knew it, he got old enough to be bitter about Christmas. Everyone who already had things, got more things. And everyone who had nothing continued to get more nothing.

In the apocalypse all that changed. There were no people left who had things. No one had anything. And frankly it was like Christmas Day any time a crew came back from a run with supplies, medicine or food. Just the basics.

Yet here Daryl stood, alone in the middle of a mother-fucking Toys-R-Us with a giant army green duffel bag like he was the apocalyptic Santa Claus.

Shit, for all he knew it could be November 14th or February 2nd. But Beth and Hershel had decided that it was going to be Christmas tomorrow. Everyone whispered and murmured about what a Christmas could be like under these circumstances and some shit was tossed around about allowing themselves to eat more than normal. Sharing stories about past Christmases and dreams about what they hope Christmas might be like again someday. And it was determined that they'd all stay together that day. No runs. No hunting. It would be their first official holiday.

Daryl had immediately looked towards Rick, eyes pleading to get out of it, to be allowed to hunt and not be forced to talk about something that he had nothing good to contribute to. But Rick was already shaking his head. "You too, Daryl. We're all family now," he'd said. And sadly, Daryl was unable to storm out in a huff because he was the one rocking Judith to sleep at the moment. Goddamn Judith. Always makes him do every damn thing. Can't even fuckin' talk yet and already she's the boss of him.

Daryl looked around the store. He felt more like the grinch than Santa as he took down wreaths and small Christmas trees. Garland. Ornaments. Battery operated twinkly Christmas lights that Judith would love to watch and clap for. She clapped now. Whatever that was about. Whenever someone said "yay" she clapped. It could be "yay, I just stepped in deer shit" and she'd clap and giggle quietly. Daryl never really got babies. Never had one. Never been near one til lil ass kicker came around. But somehow his mission in life has become protecting her. And her brother. And Jesus, Rick too.

So after he had a truck filled with stupid decorations, he went back inside and pushed a cart around like a fucking soccer mom. He got batteries and video games for Carl. A nerf football. A soccer ball and net. A model airplane. Boxes of GI Joe stuff. And then a bunch of pink shit, like dolls and teething rings and stuffed animals and a princess dress-up outfit and shit that said Barbie all over it.

He knocked a shelf of books into the cart, story books, coloring books, crayons. And put in some Legos and five or six board games. There should be plenty for Carl and Judith and for the other kids that were living at the prison now. Didn't even know most of their names really. There was the short one. The shorter one. The boy with the curly hair. And the older one. He only cared about the ones that were family. Judith and Carl. And Rick.

He pushed the cart out, used his Bowie knife to put down a cashier that had been stuck under a fallen shelf of play-doh for probably years now, and threw the rest of his goods into the back of the Ford F1-150 that he just found that morning and decided to give to himself as a Christmas gift.

Everyone thought he was out hunting for a big Christmas Day feast, but the light was fading and he hadn't even started scanning for prey yet.

On his ride back to the prison, he had the surprising fortune of actually hitting a 'possum with the truck. It must have been a Christmas miracle because it bounced off and flew ahead of him instead of sliding under a tire. When Daryl got out and looked it over, it could easily be taken as a legitimate shot instead of roadkill. Especially since he jabbed a bolt through its head for authenticity. 

He stopped along a wooded stretch and got out, quickly finding about a dozen squirrels. They were easy pickings because of their constant chatter. He parked the truck under some cover outside the prison gates and walked in the same way he'd walked out that morning, on foot, just him and his bow, and now a dozen squirrels and a 'possum.

Rick was walking down to meet him. He'd clearly been keeping an eye out and growing worried as the sun set. Daryl felt warmth radiating from Rick before the man even reached him to put a hand on his shoulder. 

Merle had seen it. Said the cop had a way of looking at Daryl that Merle didn't like. But Daryl liked it. Liked being around Rick. Talking to him. Working with him. Liked the comfort of sitting close. Liked having his full attention. He never had anyone's full attention before. Never had anyone worry like Rick does about him.

As soon as they reached one another Rick's hand was gentle on Daryl's back. "Gone long," he said. "You run into trouble?"

"Nah," Daryl replied handing the 'possum to Rick by the tail. "Just lost track a time 's all."

They walked up to the prison as tiny snowflakes started swirling from a cold gust of winter wind.

"I know you aren't up for Christmas, Daryl. I'm not an idiot. I know it doesn't hold the kind of meaning for you that it does for the rest of us. But it would mean a lot if you'd stick around for the day tomorrow. You know mostly for Carl and Judy."

Daryl nodded to Rick. "I'll be around. I know."

"Some of the kids have been making gifts. Think Carl had one for you. So, I just wanted to make sure he wouldn't be disappointed."

Rick was holding Daryl's eyes tight like a firm handshake. The hunter nodded. He would always do what was needed for the Grimes family. Whether it was protecting them, killing for them, or pretending to like a drawing of Santa or whatever it was Carl was working on. He would do it.

\------------------------------------

That night everyone went to bed with an excitement that Daryl didn't really understand. Beth had decorated the best she could with rings of different colored paper taped together and strewn across the common area. Hershel and Tyreese had dragged in a live pine tree and the bottom half of it had cut out paper snowflakes. Probably from the shorter one and the one with the curly hair. 

Daryl's cell was far away from everyone else's so when he slipped out in the dead of night, no one stirred. He knew Glenn was on watch at the gates so he'd have to at least let him in on his secret but he would swear him over threat of death not to tell anyone it was Daryl. 

Glenn saw him walking out and nodded once Daryl reached the gate. "Hey, man. You trying to sneak out so you don't have to do Christmas? Rick's gonna be devastated y'know."

"I'm not g... Why's Rick gonna be devastated?"

Glenn rolled his eyes like he knew something Daryl didn't which made Daryl consider knocking him unconscious instead of just asking him to keep a secret. 

"He wants the family to all be together. All," Glenn emphasized.

"Look, I got some shit to bring in, ok. So I'm gonna go get it and bring it in and you aren't going to look at it and you aren't going to look at me and you aren't going to recall this conversation ok?"

Glenn lifted a brow in confusion. "Umm, ok?" He said perplexed. 

"I hate this fucking holiday but all you idiots love it... so just.... Just let this be, ok?"

Glenn nodded, completely confused. 

"Cause seriously. I will cut your tongue out if you say anything about this."

"Well, that's not very festive but I get ya. I hear ya. I see nothing. I say nothing."

After several trips back and forth, Daryl growling at a smiling, bouncing Glenn each time, the truck was finally unloaded.

On his last trip, Glenn scanned the emptiness around them. "No walkers for miles. Want help?"

"Fuck off," Daryl grumbled, hands full of stuffed animals and a Barbie doll horse. Once in the common area alone he put up all the decorations he'd gotten based on memories of how they decorated on old tv shows. 

He forgot about wrapping paper, but fuck it. Everyone would be sharing everything anyway, so no need for name tags and shit. He just quietly piled all the shit up under the tree like they did in _A Christmas Story_ and turned to go back to bed when he saw him.

Rick stood leaning against the far wall. Arms crossed. Bowed legs crossed. Curls all a damn mess from sleeping on 'em. Daryl had no idea how long he'd been standing there.

"What?" Daryl asked defensively.

"Is the football for me?"

"Yeah, the football's for you. Said you wanted to throw a football around the other day. So I got you a fucking football."

They stood, Daryl caught red-handed and blushing. "Don't fucking tell anyone, man."

"I won't," Rick answered with absolute sincerity.

"What the hell are you doing up anyway?" Daryl grumbled. 

"Was looking for you. Had your present."

Daryl frowned and eyed Rick suspiciously. "You got me a present? Why?"

Rick motioned to the football. "Why’d you get me one?"

Daryl didn't move or answer because he was suddenly curious. Why did he get Rick something very specific? Something he'd heard him talk about? Something tossed under that tree with all the rest but clearly meant for Rick? Meant for Daryl and Rick to toss it around the yard with Carl. 

Daryl still hadn't answered but Rick continued, "That's the same reason I got you one." He said softly. 

"Ya didn't go anywhere. You were on watch all day." Daryl said as if he was trying to convince Rick that despite what he thought, he had no gift for a stray Dixon that’s been hanging around like a found dog for years now.

"It's not really a thing. Didn't need to go looking for it. Already had it."

Daryl didn't say anything. The air in the room became thin and his heartbeat sped up like he was tracking a buck and nearly had it in his sights.

"I could be mistaken, Daryl. So if you don't want it, you just need to let me know. And I know we're good. We're family. And my feelings won't be hurt.” 

As Rick spoke he walked closer and now the leader stood less than an arm’s length away.

"Judy calls you pa," Rick said.

"Told ya she's trying to say puddin'. ‘Sides she just can't talk yet. Them’s just sounds."

"Carl says he wants to be just like you when he grows up."

"Pfft... He just wants to learn to hunt and he knows you sure as shit can't teach him," Daryl teased.

"I can't sleep when I don't know you’re safe here with us after a hunt or a run."

"You never sleep. You ain't sleepin' now. What's that got to do with me."

"I love you. My kids love you."

"Yeah, whatever. Love you guys too, you know that."

"You can punch me if you have to. But I'm kinda hoping for a Christmas miracle."

"What do you m-". Before Daryl could finish his sentence Rick's warm body was pressed to his, soft, full lips caressing Daryl's that were chapped from the weather. Rick's hands on either side of Daryl's face, not holding him firm, but lightly, enough for Daryl to feel the warmth of them. 

Daryl opened his mouth, initially to protest because what the hell was this? But when his lips parted, Rick's slid right into place like they were taking the final footsteps to a long journey home. And it felt good. It felt good to have Rick's hands gentle against his face, warm lips moving over his own like wind moving softly back and forth through wild fields of barley.

And Daryl forgot about Christmas. Forgot the tree, the presents, the decorations. He forgot to breathe and suddenly gasped for breath, his heart hammering against his insides, his ears ringing. 

Rick stepped back slowly as their lips parted and let his hands slowly run down Daryl's arms. The hunter was speechless, breathless and wide-eyed.

"Did you hate it?" Rick asked.

"Wh- why'd you do it?" Daryl stuttered.

"Been wanting to. And been feeling like maybe you wanted it, too." Rick waited, pupils blown and focused on Daryl's blue pools.

"Didn't like...know we were gay," Daryl responded slowly.

Rick shrugged. "Don't know what it is, Daryl. But I know I love you. I want to be with you all that time and I love the feel of you against me. I love that you love my children and that they love you. And I love that you brought them Christmas even though you hate it.

Daryl glanced back behind him. It looked like a drunk department store Santa threw up all over the prison.

"Don't want anyone to know it was me. If we're kissing now, then we can keep secrets too, right?"

"That mean you liked my gift?" Rick asked, grinning.

Daryl smiled and looked shyly away. "Yeah, I liked it. I mean it's not an awesome Nerf football or anything like that but...it was ok.”

Rick nodded. “Ok, good then. Because it’s a Grimes family tradition that you get one gift on Christmas Eve and the rest on Christmas day.”

Daryl squinted suspiciously at Rick. Just wearing sweats and a flannel. Hair all a mess. Lips a little pinker since they been kissed. Eyes darker than he remembered them ever being. “What is this? Is this flirtin’? Are you flirtin’ with me?”

Rick laughed quietly and it bounced off the concrete wall behind them in a way that made the grey prison seem a bit more cheerful. The leader shrugged. “You better go get some sleep. You’re gonna be exhausted tomorrow.”

“Exhausted from what? Being held prisoner here and listening to stupid stories. Not hunting. Not on a run…”

“Oh you’ll be busy. Who do you think’s gonna put that Barbie house together?”

“It ain’t already in the box put together?” Daryl asked with surprise.

“Hell no! We’re going to be cutting open these presents and putting shit together until the sun goes down.”

Daryl looked around. “They can’t all be like that. That GI Joe tank for the one with the curly hair… that just should come right out of the box.”

“Yeah, it should. But it doesn’t. It’s probably zip-tied ten times to a an inch-thick piece of cardboard.”

“Well, this fuckin’ sucks, man!” Daryl said exasperated. 

Rick shushed him. “Don’t wake them up. They’ll never go back to bed. Go on, get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Daryl looked around the room at all the Christmas and then back at Rick. Should he kiss him again? Is that going to be a thing now? “Well, Good night,” Daryl said, sort of waiting to see if Rick was going to lean in. 

Rick grinned devilishly. “Told ya. Only one gift on Christmas eve. But I have the two of us on schedule up in the tower tomorrow night. I can give you the rest then.” Rick winked at him and walked off in the direction of his cell.

Daryl walked quietly down the catwalk to his own cell, climbed into bed and tried to fall asleep despite his mind swirling with Rick’s lips and Barbie houses and GI Joes and Judith’s clapping and Carl’s model airplane and the short one and the shorter one playing with lego’s. But mostly Rick’s lips. And the way he winked. And the promise of more. And the realization that Daryl liked kissing guys apparently. At least this guy. And he’d barely nodded off when he heard the first scream from the curly haired one if he could tell their voices right. “Oh my GOD!!! WAKE UP!! SANTA CAME!!!! HE CAME!!!”

And Daryl’s ears were filled with the sounds of prison doors opening and shutting, footsteps padding down the iron steps and the soft sound of Judith’s clapping. And he climbed out of bed to to watch his first family Christmas unfold.

\-------------------------------

Rick had been right. By nightfall Daryl was exhausted. He’d put together half a dozen toys. Started working on Carl’s model airplane with him. Threw the football around the prison with Rick. Stepped on a Lego. Listened to the Greene sisters sing Christmas songs. Watched Glenn closely to make sure he kept his mouth shut. Ate like a pig. Laughed at the short one and the shorter one every time they said it had to be Hershel because he looked like Santa. And stepped on three more Legos. 

By nightfall, everyone was exhausted. The adults had gotten increasingly pushy about wanting to know how it all happened and they finally concluded that it was Daryl when the hunter barked out a loud “Stop fuckin’ worryin’ about it. Ya’s wanted a damn Christmas. Ya got one. So shut up!” 

At nine, Rick and Daryl bundled up and made their way to the watch tower for their shift. “Well,” Daryl said as they reached the bottom of the tower, “I hope you liked your Christmas.” 

Rick leaned in and grazed Daryl’s lips with a quick, soft kiss. “Oh, _our_ Christmas is just beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mushiness in the Guard Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd and written way too fast. But after posting a chapter a day for over a month on another fic, I'm like addicted to posting something every day. Like its coffee or cigarettes or something. Anyway. It's rushed but it's here. Hope you enjoy.

Daryl didn't know how to respond when he got up to the tower and saw that Rick had moved a bunch of the garland and twinkle lights there.

He'd tried to be grumpy all day. But it's hard to be all stand-off Dixon when Judy's crawling into your lap and falling asleep with a new teddy bear and the shorter one and the curly haired one were building Lego towers. And the adults were laughing their asses off playing some kind of game about Apples. 

And most of all it was hard to be grumpy when Carl gave him a homemade Christmas card. A drawing on the front that appeared to be Daryl with his crossbow. And a smaller version behind him, clearly marked with the words "this is me" under it. And inside- "Merry Christmas to the second best dad in the world. Sorry but my dad is number one but you are number two. P.s.- can you teach me to hunt in the spring? Pretty please. Love, Carl."

Daryl thanked the kid with a nod and got up to go fake pee so he could get some space and breathe and wipe away the tears that must have come from a pine tree allergy he didn’t know he had. Kid thought of him like a second father? And this is before Rick ran around telling everyone they were gay. Rick hadn’t done that yet, of course, but Daryl had a feeling that after a night in the watchtower, the leader would be monologuing about it because, though Daryl truly did love the man and would die for him in an instant, he really loved to talk a fucking lot. 

It was because of Rick that the rest of the day was hard to be grumpy, although Daryl tried his damnedest because JESUS, he hated Christmas. But every time he looked over to Rick, Rick was looking back. Usually with soft eyes that were filled with words Daryl knew Rick was gonna want to say later. And he was kinda curious. He admitted it. Curious about what exactly constituted “more presents” in the tower later. Did that mean more kissing? Cause, Daryl might be cool with that. It was cold out. Kissing was practical. Warm and shit. Did it mean more? And if so, what the hell _was_ more? Because Daryl just found out he was gay like half a day ago, so he hadn’t had much time to think about what being gay with Rick was supposed to be like because every time he turned around someone needed a toy cut out of it’s packaging or needed to find the right size batteries for their video games or needed to put together toys that should have already been put together because the box was three times as big as the damn toy itself, so why it was in pieces to begin with was beyond Daryl. 

So now here they were alone and at the top of the watchtower apparently not really there to watch for anything. The walkers were slow and few and far between in the snow. So the only reason they were there was to be gay, Daryl guessed. 

The hunter looked around at the lights and tried not to notice the sleeping bags and blankets in the corner. They were always there, but they really stuck out this time for some reason. Rick just smiled at him. The same glittery-eyed smile he’d been giving Daryl all day.

“Why ya lookin’ at me like that all day?” Daryl finally asked to break the silence. 

Rick shrugged. “Just really like looking at ya. Like seeing you happy.” 

“I ain’t happy. This is not me happy. I told ya I hated Christmas. Did I _tell_ you how many Lego’s I stepped on?!?”

“Four,” they said at the same time. 

“Hurts like a mother-fucker,” Daryl growled. “And you know me, Rick. You know I can take it. Been shot with my own damn arrow. Been beat ta’ hell as a kid. Shoulder’s been dislocated ten times since I known ya. But those fucking Legos. Goddamnit.” 

“You’re happy,” Rick said. 

“Am not.” 

“You are. You loved seeing those kids so happy today. You love being part of a family… all of us. The whole prison. You love providing. You love me.”

“This your segue to being gay again?” Daryl asked with a huff. 

Rick laughed. “Don’t think that’s it, man. I’m not looking at anyone else’s ass. Just yours.”

Daryl turned around and tried to look at his own ass. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“Oh my God, Daryl,” Rick shook his head. “It’s nice. You have a nice ass. I like you. I like being with you and I like your ass.”

Daryl frowned. “Does that mean I gotta be the….” Daryl dropped his gruff voice lower, “the dude on the bottom?!”

Rick giggled and tried to cover it with a hand over his face. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Thought maybe we could try kissing again for a while. See if we like it.”

“You didn’t like it last night?” Daryl asked defensively.

“Course I did, wouldn’t be asking for more if I didn’t.” 

“So you want to kiss me to see if _I_ like it.” 

Rick nodded and bit nervously at his bottom lip. “You haven’t said much about it.”

“Well, Jesus, Rick. I’ve been busy putting together five hundred toys with one hand while Judith was drooling all over my other hand and trying to help the short one find the stupid Barbie hairbrush fifteen different times and...” Daryl just kinda stopped talking as he got lost in Rick’s eyes. Blue like a mountain lake and focused on him like there was no other world going on around them. 

It was quiet. No sounds from walkers. No sounds from the old world- planes, phones, televisions. Just quiet with the occasional soft fall of snow as it outweighed a branch and plopped to the ground. The temperature had changed just enough for the falling snowflakes to turn to tiny droplets of ice that made music as they hit the metal of the tower.

“Are you gonna fucking kiss me again or what?” Daryl asked, trying for impatient and aggressive but delivering it softly.

Rick shrugged. “Wanna make sure you want it. Maybe you should kiss me?” 

“I already got you a damn football. You said you had more presents. I want my fucking presents.” Daryl was not going to cave on this. He wasn’t going to be a kiss-initiator. He may be gay now, but goddamnit he wasn’t gonna be the one doing all the pining and kissing and shit. If Rick wanted to kiss him, he could come the fuck over to Daryl and kiss him.

It was a stand-off. Eyes on eachother. No one moving. Rick’s eyes looking Daryl up and down like he was almost making out with the hunter already. Handless. Lipless. Just with eyes and a big imagination. 

“Mother fucker,” Daryl whispered and walked the two feet to get to Rick. He slid hands into the leader’s hair and tried to work his lips the same way Rick had the night before, slotting them together. He liked the heat that radiated off Rick’s body. Liked the breathy sighs that slid from his lips as they kissed. Surprisingly liked the feel of Rick’s hands sliding around to Daryl’s ass, tugging his body closer. 

Daryl stopped to catch his breath and pressed his forehead to Rick’s. “Ok. What do we do next to be gay together because I do love you Rick. I don’t ever want you to stop looking at me the way you look at me.” Daryl’s words sounded foreign to his own ears. Too gentle. Too full of want. Totally not pissy enough for someone who hates Christmas and thinks it’s stupid to be kissing and in love under twinkling lights. Especially with a dude when that hadn’t even been a thing that was on Daryl’s radar. 

But hindsight being what it was, he was more loyal to Rick than any other human on the planet and why was that? Treated his kids like they were his own. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would take a bullet for all three of them. They were his family. And having a family in the apocalypse was a pain in the ass because you had to feed them and take care of them and worry about them. So maybe this was the good you got out of it. Being loved. And being kissed. And being wanted. And getting cards about being the number two dad. 

And you know what? Daryl liked kissing Rick. And touching Rick and being touched. He was down with it. It could be a thing. And if Rick wanted to blabber on about it to everyone fine. Whatever.

“So kissing is good then?” Rick asked as he stole another one quickly and pulled back to gage the sincerity of Daryl’s response in his eyes. 

“Yeah. We can kiss. But I need time to think this ass thing over. Cause, seems to me there’s two options with that… and I might want to make a pitch for me getting your ass.”

“You’re happy,” Rick grinned from ear to ear. “I made you happy for Christmas.”

“I fucking hate Christmas, Rick. But I love you. So if you want to pretend that I love Christmas now and you totally converted me then fine. Pretend it. As long as I get to decide exactly what happens on New Year’s.”

After more kisses that started involving more tongues and more roaming hands and unexpected moans from Daryl, The hunter sat down to look over the yard. Rick sat comfortably between his legs and leaned his back against Daryl’s chest. And the rest of the night was filled with soft falling snow mixed with the twinkling of ice, Daryl wrapping Rick’s body warmly in his arms as they sat against each other thinking more than watching, and Daryl realizing that fucking Christmas wasn’t so damn bad afterall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End. But there's still 15 days till Christmas so I'm sure I'll think up some more new one-shots before then! Cause y'know... Addicted.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... funny story. This was just going to be a little two-chapter fluff. But then Bella_Monoxide caught a typo so I went in to fix it. And sometimes when you edit, AO3 bounces you back to the question mark for chapters so my 2/2 was changed to 2/?.
> 
> By the time I noticed, I had half a dozen eager comments all excited about more chapters coming! So now, like... I guess I have to keep writing this!
> 
> Important reminder- This is just an unbeta’d, fun, fluff piece- so expect lots of typos and grammatical errors. I’m trying to give my poor overworked beta-reader a Christmas vacation!

So now that operation "Give these people a damn Christmas" was over, Daryl slid into a new mindset and a new goal for the immediate future. He liked to have a goal. Worked well that way. Liked waking up in the morning and knowing he needed at least a dozen small game or one decent-sized deer to feed his people. Well, not "his people". Rick's people. Whatever. It was just semantics. He liked knowing what needed to be done each day and he liked to accomplish his tasks.

So now, with Christmas sort of over, his goal was to figure out how to be gay with Rick. Though technically, Christmas wasn't going to really be over til New Year's because the whole prison nearly had a coronary the morning after fake Christmas when Daryl tried to drag the tree back outside. It was over, right? Apparently not. 

He was informed by Beth that decorations stayed up until New Years. And she was fairly threatening about it considering that she was just a little wisp of a girl. She carried a knife now. She was fierce. Killed walkers easy. And looked like she'd about kill for that tree. So the tree stayed.

The night prior, after that four hour shift in the tower that could only be described as “cuddling”, Rick and Daryl went to their separate ways. They'd stood awkward that night between each other's cells, waiting on one or the other to invite or suggest or something. And then finally Daryl snapped because things weren't ever supposed to be awkward between he and Rick and he wouldn't let their sudden gayness change that. So Daryl just growled out the truth, "I ain't a easy lay so.... back to our corners for now."

Daryl didn't _want_ to be an easy lay. That _was_ the truth. But he also needed some damn time to figure shit out. Yeah, sure. He loved Rick. When he thought about it, he's loved Rick for a long time. The emotions weren’t hard to accept. But loving the guy and doing, like... stuff. And thangs? Well, that was gonna take some figuring out. You can blurt out an “I love you” that’s been brewing for what felt like the beginning of time. But you can’t blurt out “So do we just suck on them or should I put mine in your ass or should you put yours…” Daryl couldn’t even continue. His brain was on gay overload already and all he’d done was kiss and get felt up. And… yes… did some feeling up of his own as well. Rick had very nice hips and abs. And a damn fine ass. 

The hunter did not sleep well that night. And not well meant not at all. After all the kisses and caresses and moans and touches in places that ain't been touched in years, he totally _would_ have been an easy lay if he knew what the fuck he was doing. He did want it. He just didn't know what "it" was. He was even considering offering to be the bottom guy just so long as skin was against skin. But he literally just turned gay... so even though he knew there was supposed to _be_ a bottom guy… he didn’t really know how to get that figured out. What did all these gay guys do? Draw straws? Rock, paper, scissors? “Call it first” like shotgun to a passenger seat? So things could wait, stuff and thangs. One more day wouldn't hurt while he got his thoughts straightened out.

He didn't _think_ it would hurt anyway but after all those hands and lips and moans and shit, Daryl laid in his cell with the worst case of blue balls he's ever had in his life. He’d rather be stepping on Legos. And he couldn't think it away because his thoughts were on his current mission- how in the hell they were supposed to do it. 

They _were_ in a damn prison. Maybe there was a book or something in the library. Or maybe he could ask around. Maybe someone had some experience or advice.

That morning, also known as the day after fake Christmas, Daryl was pissed because he couldn't stop grinning at Rick. And damnit, he wanted to stay grumpy until the damn tree and shit was out of his sight. Didn’t want anyone thinking he was into this bullshit now. So getting caught grinning just pissed him off. First Rick was making him do it. And then it was because Judith kept insisting on looking at him and reaching up and saying “Pa”. And Carl encouraging it. “Pa’s grumpy in the mornings, Judy. I’ll play with you.” Dixon's don't do babies. And they don't do dudes. And people don’t call them “Pa”. And they sure as shit don't fucking grin like a moron because Rick Grimes is batting his eyelashes at them. Fucking Grimes'. They're killing him. All of them!

He went out to do a perimeter check with Glenn even though they could tell by sight no one had walked through the deep snow, alive or dead.

"Hey. You ever bang a guy?" Daryl asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"What?" Glenn asked, exasperated. "Why do you... Oh. Never mind. I get it."

"Get what?"

"Why you're asking."

"Why the fuck do you think I'm asking?"

Glenn rolled his eyes. "You know why."

“Do I?” Daryl squinted.

“Yeah. Ya do.”

"Are you gonna play 'who's on first' with me all damn day or are you gonna answer my fucking question?"

"Jesus, Daryl," Glenn answered, "I never even banged a _girl_ before Maggie. So I can't help ya figure out how to nail Rick.... _Assuming_ that's what you were getting at, of course."

Daryl glared at him. "So what I hear you saying is that you think _I'm_ the one that should be doing the nailing?"

"Dude. I can not have this conversation with you."

"Well how the fuck 'm I 'spossed to figure out what to do?"

"I suggest asking Rick."

"He ain't been gay any longer than I have. What's he gonna know!?" Daryl grumbled. Glenn pretty much opted out of the rest of the conversation after that.

\-------------

So Glenn was no fucking help at all. Christ it was a miracle the guy kept his mouth shut about the Christmas shit, so Daryl figured he couldn’t be too hard on him for not knowing about how to be gay. Wait. Was that a Freudian slip? “Too hard on him”? Is he that gay now that everything is gonna sound like sex and innuendo? Daryl chuckled to himself and then quickly forced his expression back into his scroogy Christmas-hating frown. The tree was still there. All the damn lights. Toys still everywhere. Didn’t these kids have cells to put this shit away in? He was determined to stay annoyed until all that shit was cleaned up.

As Daryl was busy hating Christmas again and heading back down the corridor to his cell, Rick called out from behind him, following the hunter with his bow-legged swagger. His messy curls and his scraggly beard that was all salt and pepper now. And sexy, Daryl realized. Now he finally understood why he always had a preference about what Rick did with his hair. Apparently he'd been "checking Rick out” for ages. Not even realizing it. Rick's eyes lit up when he saw Daryl looking him over.

“Hey, man. Wanna throw the football around?” he asked, sounding more like Carl then Rick for a second. 

Daryl lifted a brow in suspicion. “Is that a euphemism or something or are you talking about an actual football?”

Rick raised the green Nerf ball that was already in his hands a little higher. "Football," he grinned. “But it can be an innuendo if that’s what you're up for."

Daryl didn't respond right away. Just took Rick in again from head to toe. "I like it when you have the beard." Daryl said matter-of-factly.

Rick nodded. "I'll keep it."

Another moment of silence passed as their eyes devoured each other. Rick tossed the ball to Daryl who reacted at the last minute to catch it. He backed up in the hallway to return the throw. The ruckus of the rest of the family playing back in the common area was softer and not as overwhelming this far back into the prison. Daryl threw the ball back. A perfect spiral.

“Why you coming up here? Shouldn’t you be doing Christmas things down there with everyone else?”

“Was wondering if you gave any thought to more than kissing.” Rick threw the ball back and Daryl dropped it as it bounced off his hands and wobbled off the edge of the catwalk. He looked back up at Rick empty handed. 

“What exactly is ‘more than kissing’?” he asked sounding way more naive and unsure than he wanted to.

“Well, my idea was to just crawl into bed… y’know without clothes and just explore and see what happens.”

Daryl kept his eyes on Rick’s, half suspicious glare and half pure lust. “Yeah. Ok. I can do that. When?” He looked over Rick’s shoulder. The common area was fairly far off and no one was leaving that pile of gifts anytime soon. 

“I asked Maggie to keep everyone down there and away from your cell. So…” Rick shrugged. “Now?”

“So Maggie knows. She knows RIGHT now that we’re gonna be naked in bed together?”

“Well, honestly, Daryl. She kinda thought we’d already been doing it. So she’s mostly surprised that we haven’t yet.”

“WHAT?” Why? We look gay?? How did we not know we looked gay?” 

Rick started walking closer and Daryl felt goosebumps pop up on his arms and the back of his neck. Was he _trying_ to walk all sexy and shit or is this just the way he walked and Daryl never really took notice before. 

“I think they just notice the way we look at each other and the way we talk close. Sit close. Always look to one another for any decision. Christ I looked to you this morning to make sure you were on board with feeding Judith those Gerber’s banana cookies.”

“Well, yeah. You… you gotta check the ingredients. Hershel said you shouldn’t give her certain things yet and we have to track what she eats because of potential allergies. You can’t just go shoving stuff in people’s mouths.” As soon as Daryl finished the sentence he shut his eyes and dropped his head. Jesus. He just made a sex innuendo about the poor damn baby!

Rick grinned. Hard. “I promise I won’t stuff anything in your mouth. I mean… unless you like want it or whatever but … no… let’s just... Let’s not talk details standing in the hall with two hard-ons. Let’s go back to your cell. Pull down the privacy curtain.”

Daryl didn’t need to look down to know that Rick was right about him bulging against his pants. And he had already taken notice of Rick’s tented pants. So yeah. That was a good plan. They should be in a bed. Without pants. So they could fucking breathe a little. He turned without a word and went the rest of the way to his cell, Rick quickly following him.

Once they were in complete privacy, or at least as close to it as you can get in the apocalypse, Daryl folded his arms over his chest. “You first.”

“Why do I have to do it first?” Rick pouted.

“You came on to me, man. I was just minding my own business. You know… Christmasing up this shit hole and you came on to me. So you gotta show your junk first. Seen it before anyway. We’ve showered together a million times.”

Rick grinned and started kicking off his shoes and socks. “Right. Good. So... you already know I’m bigger than you. That’s good. Then you won’t have to feel bad when you see it.”

Daryl burst out laughing because they _both_ knew for a fact that Daryl was clearly larger. And thicker. That was hard to miss when they were in the showers together or pissing near each other even if you were _trying_ not to look.

“Go ahead and think it’s funny, Dixon. Because that’s gonna be MY pitch for getting in your ass first. I’m smaller so it won’t hurt so much.”

“Well,” Daryl said with a grin as he watched Rick wiggle out of his pants, “My pitch is that I have a bigger dick, so I win. And I get to pick.” Rick laughed so hard he fell onto the bed, shoeless and pantsless. Daryl loved making him laugh. And now he knew why. Apparently because he’s wanted to fuck him. It was so crazy how clear everything had become in the past 24 hours.

“Shirt,” Daryl said with a nod, biting on a nail to cover up the fact that he just realized he was drooling.

And then there it was. Naked Rick. Sitting there on Daryl’s bed. Just waiting for him. “You’re turn,” Rick said, his voice already thick with the sex that they weren’t having yet. And might not have yet. Because this was just naked exploring. And that didn’t necessarily mean sex.

Daryl undressed with Rick’s eyes taking in every bare inch of him. The leader turned to pull the blankets back and Daryl got a good look at his backside. It was cute as fuck. And suddenly it dawned on Daryl that it would probably be tighter and hotter than any place he’s ever been. He decided right then and there that he was totally gonna make a play during this naked exploration extravaganza to explore Rick’s ass with his dick. 

“Showing me your ass like that is NOT a good way to convince me that you shouldn’t be the guy on the bottom. ‘Cause I think you look like you’d make a really good bottom guy right now.” Daryl said, his voice all gravelly with desire.

Rick covered himself with the blankets and held the end open for Daryl to crawl in with him. “I’m totally cool with that. Heard about a prostate thing. I’m into checking that out.”

“What prostate thing?” Daryl asked as crawled into the bed and Rick put a leg over his and started pressing soft, quiet kisses to Daryl’s chest. The hunter could feel Rick’s erection pressed against his thigh. It would be a real waste to have these two cocks nearly bursting and not figure out a way have them explode. 

“That there’s a spot in there. And if you hit it the right way it’s apparently like nothing you’ve ever felt. Straight people even do shit to stimulate the prostate. I mentioned it to Lori once but she was pretty vanilla. Didn’t take the bait.”

“So like… a better orgasm?” Daryl asked, thinking of it all very scientifically at the moment.

“Don’t know,” Rick said as he started kissing Daryl’s pouty lips again. “Maybe you can show me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh snap! Totally naked and in bed and I break the chapter. Well, real life has interrupted things but I thought I’d leave you with at least something. And with a promise that there will be more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo... Real life threw me a curve ball and things have been a little shitty. But when life gives you lemons... you should make some Rickyl. So here's my best attempt at continuing this humor and smut.
> 
> Warning- Completely and utterly unbeta'd. I would bet you eight million dollars there's at least a dozen typos, misspellings or grammatical errors!

Two days ago, in the bitter chill of Georgia winter, Daryl would never have imagined being naked in bed with Rick practically begging the hunter to fuck him. Yes. This was unexpected. 

Daryl normally didn't like surprises. The last time he was this surprised the dead were walking. This surprise was different though. Better. Much better. He lay still while Rick's hands roamed his chest and his mouth reached a nipple. He sucked on it gently. 

"What are you doing, man? Daryl snapped.

"Exploring. Like we said," Rick answered defensively. "You don't like that?"

"It was just...Unexpected."

Rick nodded, taking Daryl's comments very seriously. "So I can go back to checking it out?"

"Whatever," Daryl shrugged, totally an act. He was startled at how good something like that felt. Jesus- is he _that_ gay? 'Play with my nipples' gay? That seems almost gayer than being fucked in the ass, which since the conversation about some top secret orgasm button, has seemed a lot more like something Daryl might be able to get on board with.

Rick went right back to sucking at a nipple and fondling the other with his long, rough fingers. Daryl was just as surprised to hear a groan slip from his throat as Rick was.

"Sensitive nipples. Got it. Making a mental note." Rick said as he leaned over to the one he was fingering and licked at it delicately. 

"I ain't a chic, man. Ain't gonna break."

Rick looked up and raised a brow. "So harder? More aggressive? Cause I can do that. I'm totally holding back, you know."

"Well, don't hold back," Daryl challenged.

Rick dropped his head back to Daryl's nipple and he took it in between his teeth and bit, gently at first then harder and harder and tugged at it as Daryl moaned and cursed below him.

"Mother fucker," he whined. 

"Too much?" Rick asked with a devilish grin.

Daryl grabbed Rick's arms tight and flipped him quickly onto his back. 

"You gonna resort to manhandling me now, Dixon?"

"Jesus shut up, man. Are you gonna talk through this whole damn thing?"

"For the record," Rick added as Daryl ran his hand over the leader's tight abs, "I like it rough."

"Really?" Daryl asked as his voice grew low and his pupils grew wide.

Daryl ran a hand into Rick's curls and grabbed a fistful of hair. He pressed his mouth to Rick's aggressively and worked his lips apart with a rough tongue eagerly lapping into Rick's opened mouth. He rolled on top, so their cocks were side by side and pressed tight between them and Daryl slowly pulled out of the kiss, biting and tugging at the leader's lower lip before they separated.

Rick whimpered as Daryl tilted his head using the rough grip he had in his hair, pulling back hard to give him access to suck at the pulse point in Rick's neck.

Rick was writhing around below him, thrusting his hips for more friction, panting and gasping into Daryl's ear.

"Rick. You don't stop rockin' your hips like that I'm gonna unload before we're even done explorin'."

Rick took advantage of Daryl's distraction and rolled him back over so Rick was on top, but his push was a touch too hard and they both fell off the bed onto the hard concrete.

"Shit," Rick muttered, rubbing at his elbow as he stood. "That wasn't what I was going for."

Daryl pulled himself up by edge of the bed and took Rick’s elbow gently in his hand. “You ok?” he asked affectionately and with much more concern than necessary. Rick nodded as they locked eyes and they melted back into each other. All kisses and hands and groans. Elbow quite quickly forgotten.

"You should explore lower. And around back," Rick suggested between breathy kisses.

"You really want that, Rick? I don't even know how to get that shit started ya know."

Rick reached down to grab his discarded pants and dug through a pocket, pulling out a bottle.

"What the hell's that?" Daryl asked, hands cupping around at Rick's bare ass.

"Lube. From Maggie."

Daryl dropped his head to Rick's shoulder and shook it back and forth.

"Don't think about too hard, Daryl. Don't worry 'bout what she's thinking. Worry 'bout what I'm thinking."

"What are you thinkin'?" Daryl asked in a throaty growl.

Rick's voice dropped to its lowest possible register. "Thinking about bending over this bed for you, opening myself up with my fingers and letting you fuck the shit out of me. See if we can find that prostate thing."

"Jesus Christ. You're kind of a kinky little fuck, aren't you, Rick Grimes?"

"Daryl, I haven't gotten off properly in years. I want your body against mine and I want to come from someone else whispering and moaning and writhing against me. Tell me you don't want the same thing". Rick's irises were completely gone, his pupils blown so wide they looked ready to burst.

"Well," Daryl said softer than he meant to, "go ahead. Open yourself up."

Rick slid back onto the bed, laid on his back and spread his legs.

"Scotch," Daryl mumbled.

"What?"

"Scotch!!! I know you keep some in here. I need a mother fucking drink." Daryl growled.

Rick pointed to a bottle in the corner and Daryl unscrewed it and drank, long gulps as he watched Rick fumble with the lube and awkwardly press a finger into his own ass as he lay there on total display for Daryl. 

When the half empty bottle became three quarters empty, and Rick had pressed in and out of himself several times, Daryl wiped his mouth on his bare arm and put the bottle down. 

"I don't think you're doing it right," he grumbled and picked up the lube, coating several of his own fingers. "I should be doing that. Christ you can finger yourself without me here. I'm here. So - like you said.... We should do this properly. Properly gay."

Rick pulled his finger out and kept his eyes on Daryl's as if he was feeding on his soul. Rick had a way of looking at people, even now, spread eagle and wanting, where he just drank you in and held your attention. 

"K," Rick said quietly.

Daryl sat on the bed and ran one hand back over Rick's chest to soothe him, then circled his entrance with a slick finger until he finally had the guts to dip inside and push in and out and in and out in a steady and unforgiving pace.

"Holy shit," Rick whispered.

"I have no idea how you think my cock is gonna fit in here," Daryl said. It's fucking tight."

"Put in another finger," Rick moaned.

Daryl obliged and Rick groaned and gasped and started pushing his body back into Daryl's fingers to get more of them.

Daryl felt around, scissored and circled and curled his fingers. This was an exploration after all. He was _supposed_ to be exploring. So he moved his hand and hooked his two fingers around and up until Daryl had to assume that he found this elusive prostate when Rick’s back arched and he groaned loudly. Way louder than a guy should be groaning with a prison full of family down the hall. 

“Holy Fuck. Don’t stop. Don’t stop, Daryl, Please!”

“Is that it? Is that the thing???” Daryl asked, absolutely fascinated by the expression of sheer pleasure on Rick’s face, the sounds mewling out of him, the writhing of his body. Daryl kept the pace of his movements up and saw Rick’s cock leaking already without even a hand on it. Which quickly reminded Daryl that a hand should be on it. 

He kept his movements steady against Rick’s prostate and wrapped a hand around his leader’s cock and stroked it like he’s stroked his own, base to tip with a twist of his wrist over the head.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Rick just muttered as he started slamming his hips forward into Daryl’s hand and then back to grasp more of the hunter’s fingers. 

“I’m gonna…” and Rick couldn’t finish his sentences before a burst of white shot out of his cock in pulses and painted his heaving chest. His body twitched and went boneless with a long slow moan.

Daryl slowly pulled his fingers out and gently let go of Rick’s softening cock, wiping both hands unceremoniously on the bed sheets. 

Rick was completely motionless. “Hey. Rick.”

“Mmm?”

“Was that good?”

“Mhm.”

Daryl was rock hard and getting pretty impatient. “How long til you’re gonna be able to get it up again, man?”

Rick opened one eye. “Don’t need to get it up if you’re the one that’s gonna be doing the fucking.”

Daryl frowned. “Fuck you man. I want one of those.”

Rick grinned and sat up, wincing slightly. “Don’t need to get it up to do what you just did. I can do that right now,” he said reaching over for the lube with a slow grin curling his lips. “‘Less you had something else in mind?”

“Yes! Alright, Goddamnit. I want that… with your dick inside, ok? Are you happy now? Are you happy you made me want to be the fucking bottom guy?”

“I’m plenty happy, Daryl. And I’m fairly certain you will be too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so much grumpy!Daryl smut. I mean how long can this story go on? I feel like this could be a good way to end. 
> 
> But if you have specific thoughts of what you'd want to see with Grumpy newly-gay Daryl and overly enthusiastic Rick.... shoot me some ideas and I'll see what I can do! :-)

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously. Lego's hurt like a mother fucker when you step on them. Please proceed with caution this Christmas.


End file.
